An unlikely Orc
by Fayet
Summary: In which Glorfindel comes up with a creative idea to train the Imladris Guard, young Estel learns a valuable lesson and Elrond laughs a lot. Features Glorfindel, Elrond, Erestor, Estel & the Imladris Archers. And a tree-climbing Orc.. sort of. OoC, probably. Mischievous Glorfindel! Now complete with Epilogue: Sufficiently dead. Really..?
1. An unlikely Orc

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All hail Mr. Tolkien.

A/N: This is an unlikely story, for I usually do not write LotR (I used to, but it's been long), I usually don't write anything labled "Humor", and I usually.. oh, well. This is a little something that I came up with. It's intended to be a one-shot, but if you like it there's an "Epilogue" that describes Aragorn remembering the events of this ficlet years after they happen.

I couldn't resist writing a mischievious Glorfindel-Story. The general idea that he is be a strong and fearelss warrior, but also an easy-going person who enjoys the lighter sides of life is endearing to me. So.. be prepred. I also highly enjoy reading stories about the relationship Glorfindel builds up with Estel as his mentor and teacher, so this will be the general theme of this ficlet.

Estel is around six years old in this piece.

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**An unlikely Orc**

With a soft sound Elrond closed the tome he had been writing in and looked up at his advisor. "I thank you, Erestor, for your help. Now that we are finished, shall we take a walk on the porch? It's a fine spring day, I think." Putting together his parchments and stowing his quill into its leather pouch the dark haired elf nodded. "I agree, my Lord, fresh air would not go amiss." Together they left the study.

It was a fine day indeed: spring had sprung early this year in Imaldris, and the trees were already glowing in fresh green. Walking on the covered porches they indulged in idle talk, letting their gaze wander over the trees and hills, savoring the scent of the ground still wet from last nights rain.

Just as they had rounded a corner they heard a strange howling sound in the woods below. Frowning Elrond turned towards the rail of the balcony and strained his eyes, but besides a sudden movement in the forst he saw nothing. Shrugging he turned to Erestor, who in turn shook his head, and they continued. Three more times they heard the sound, but nothing was seen in the forest. After the strange howl could be heard for the fourth time they detected more movement in the woods, and Elrond caught a glimpse of an dark-haired elf wearing a soft leather armour, longbow at the ready, rushing through the green. "I see that Linieath is seeing to it." The second-in-command of the Guard indeed seemed determined to find the source of the ruckus, and soon vanished again from sight. A series of short calls brought more motion into the forest, and soon both Elf-Lords could see more members of the Imaldris Guard rush towards the scene. The howling resumed once more, this time from a different angle, and the motion beneath the balcony moved into its direction. "Come, let us hurry and see what happened." Erestor only nodded, and together they hasted towards the main space before the entrance to the palace, from which they would be able to descend into the woods. The howling, in the meantime, ceased.

Rushing along both Elf-lords soon reached the open space before the winding set of stairs that led down towards the forest. But before they had set the first foot on the steps another member of the Guard, an archer, intended to hurry past them. He too wore the same soft leather armour made for traveling or training, and carried a longbow. Long arrows were packed into his quiver, and one was already in his hands. He stopped quickly to bow to his Lord and intended to rush on, when Elrond, catching a glimpse of the strange arrow in his hand, stopped him. "A second, Manadh - what is happening here? What kind of arrow is this? Where's your captain?" It seemed unlikely that such a commotion would not have brought Glorfindel unto the plan, who, as far as Elrond knew, should have been out training the archers anyway. The guard stopped in his tracks and inclined his head. "My Lord, our captain is whom we're trying to find." Taken aback Elrond rose his eyebrow. "Why? What is going on here?" Erestor looked at the arrow. "And since when do we use arrows with - is that a sponge?"

The archer couldn't help but grin. "Yes, my Lord Advisor, it is." He lifted the arrow. It was not sharp, and at the end of it a flat sponge was attached, soaked in red paint. If possible Elronds eyebrows rose even higher. "Explain yourself. Immediately."

That very second a horn sounded out in the forest, and cheers could be heard. The archer's face sunk, but as he was still facing his Lord he did his best to hide his displeasure. "It was our Captains idea, my Lord. As we are still doing work with the longbow -" Elrond heard Erestor chuckle behind him, and in that very second understood what the guard was talking about. Glorfindel had recently returned from a trip to Mirkwood Forest, and in the course of that taken up longbow-shooting again. The longbow wasn't unfamiliar to the elven warriors, but mostly used when city walls had to be defended. The Silvan-elves had long since favoured it as a strong weapon, and the guard of Lothlorien carried it also. To the Imaldris Archers it was not familiar, as they usually fought in the valley and lowlands around the hidden city, using shorter battle bows. But the Gondolin elves had used it, and Glorfindel enjoyed handling longbows and had talked Elrond into practically ordering him to train a group of his best archers in the use of this sturdy, strong weapon. The warriors themselves hadn't been too happy, but had soon admitted that it would indeed strenghten they power. Elrond had seen them practise on the shooting range, and watched Glorfindel himself demonstrating the added speed and force a long arrow would gain. Still the archers weren't too fond of their new bows just yet, and it seemed that Glorfindel had come up with a rather creative way of fostering enthusiasm in his warriors.

Just as Elrond was preparing a suitable answer for the obviously nervous archer in front of him he heard hasty steps behind him. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a young boy rushing towards them, unaware of the cluster of elfs in front of him, and crush directly into Erestor. Caught by the advisor he quickly apologized. "Oh no, I am sorry, I didn't - Ada, Ada, have you seen Glorfindel?" Erestor let the young boy go and Elrond eyed is excited foster son. "No, I haven't. Why were you running so fast?" The boy almost bounced. "I heard he's an Orc, is that true? A proper Orc? Because I've never seen an Orc, and I thought I could help the guards catch him and try what it is like, to catch an Orc, and the twins said - " Raising his hand Elrond stopped the flow of words before the child could faint from lack of air. "Breathe, Estel. Wait with us here for a second, and we might just see your Orc." He cast an enquiring look towards the archer, who briefly bend his head to conceal a smile. Erestor cleared his throat. "I am not sure if this method of training is such a brilliant idea. Did he let loose an orc in the woods, or how - " But before he could finish the sentence a movement became visible in the greenery beneath them and the first members of the guard appeared. Stepping back Elrond took Estel by the collar and softy tugged at the sleeve of his advisor. "Let us go onto the square and give the guard space. Then we can see what this is all about."

They moved duly, the archer abandoned on the step. And not too soon. Seconds later the guard appeared, marching in formation, in their midst the captured 'Orc'. Estel, standing next to Elrond, started to fidget again, and Elrond let go of his collar. The child bounced a few steps. "Ada, Ada, look! The Orc! They caught the Orc!"

Indeed they had. In their midst, surrounded by the laughing and smiling archers, walked the captain of the guard himself. Dressed in what Elrond thought must have been rags hidden in some stable, he decidedly looked far less graceful then his normal self. He had wrapped himself in many layers of black, grey and brown fabric, tattered and frayed, with a far too big and bulky leather armour of uncertain provenance on top, now covered in many red paint spots. On his back was a proper orc bow, together with an empty quiver. Finally he had manged to braid his hair away from his face and wrapped another layer of black fabric all the way around his head, which in his flight had gotten loose, so that golden braids were spilling over the hideous leather armour. His hands and face were blackened with ash, or paint - Elrond wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Guided by his archers the 'Orc' arrived at the steps, and as the group took on military stance and saluted their lord, growled.

Elrond gave up the fight against the chuckle building up in this throat. "Linieath!" The second-in-command archer took a step forward and bowed. "My Lord, I report - we caught an orc in the woods. He seems to be a rather special brand of orc, though, as he was fighting fearlessly, and climbed serveral trees. We attained some minor wounds in the process, but no further casualities." Only then Elrond noticed that some warriors showed black paint spots on their armour, whereas the 'Orc' himself was fully covered in red paint. Apparently Glorfindel had used arrows with sponges as well, covered in black paint.

The stern half-elf fought to gain control of the fit of laughter building up in his chest. "Very good, well done. You deserve some reward for the pains you took upon yourself to protect the safety of Imaldris from this very strange and unkown orc race." The guards bobbed their heads nodding in agreement, grinning at each other. The captured Orc, on the other hand, wasn't listening. It only took him a second to ensure that those archers standing closest to him were not attentive to his unbound hands anymore, and with a sudden howl he broke free, rushed through the ranks of the surprised warriors, and hastened towards the other end of the square, where an opening led towards the gardens.

Half-way he nearly stumbled over Estel. The boy had wandered off after Elrond had let go of his shirtcollar, and suddenly found himself swooped up by the 'Orc' and thrown over the shoulder. Giggeling and squealing the child kicked his legs, and generally seemed to enjoy the sudden action into which he had become involved. "Ada, Ada! He's got me! Save me!" The 'Orc' growled over his shoulder, not slowing his pace. "The boy is my hostage! I shall have him for dinner!" The idea of being cooked by his mentor made the boy squeal even more. "Ada! Help! Help!"

The Orc and his prisoner had almost reached the end of the square. The guards, surprised, suddenly snapped into action. But before any of them had reached for their bows a fast arrow shot over the square, hitting the fleeing orc straight into his back. He growled loudly, in a quick motion setting the boy to the ground and then falling down next to him, arms and legs flailing, delivering a lively picture of 'Orc, dying', complete with appropriate howls. Then he lay still.

On the other end of the square the unfortunate archer who had been held up by Elrond lowered his bow, cheered on by his comerades. Elrond chuckled. "That was a straight shot, Manadh. It seems that you managed to catch your prey, even though we held you up in the first place." Behind him Elrond heard Erestor mumble something about 'overacting' and 'all that ruckus', but his eyes were still fixed on the smiling faces of the warriors, while out of the corner of his eye he saw Elstel stand over the 'dead orc'. Apparently the child had decided that he was really dead, for, mimicking a pose he must have seen on some picture or another - Elrond decided to screen the youngsters literature more closely soon - put a tiny foot on the chest of the 'Orc' and stretched a fist up on the air. "The orc is dead, long live Imaldris!" The archers joined in his cheering, clapping their hands.

But before Estel could say anything else the 'Orc' suddenly sprang to his feet again, once again taking the child by suprise and scooping the boy up in his arms. "Never claim yourself the victor without making sure that your enemy is indeed dead, young one!" Laughing he leisurely walked over to the part of the square where the guard stood. "Manadh! Lord Elrond is right, that was a very good shot. I proclaim myself to be sufficiently killed." Turning towards Elrond he saluted him in soldierly fashion, still holding the giggeling boy on his shoulder. "I report: The archery training of the guard is almost completed for today. We can be satisfied with the results and sleep in peace. Imaldris shall be safe from tree-climbing orcs for the next weeks."

Elrond could almost hear Erestor rolling his eyes. Himself smiling he inclined his head. "Very well, then. I trust a full report shall be delivered later on. It would be especially interesting to know how this, ah, rare type of orc came to life. I trust that you will set things into correct order soon." Glorfindel nodded, saluted again, and turned to his second-in-command. "Linieath, take the group back to the training grounds. We will speak of a few details there and see to some improvements. I will follow swiftly." The elf saluted, turned around, and with a few short commands the archers marched in formation off the square into the direction of the training grounds.

Elrond watched the guard vanish before he turned to his captain. "I take that you had reasons for this besides the fact that you wanted to swath yourself in black cloth?" Glorfindel nodded and shifted Estel on his shoulder a bit. "Indeed I had. The archers had been out on patrol all week, and were tired. Still I wanted them to work on their longbow skills, but formal training seemd harsh considering the strain that I had recently put on them. So I came up with a more, let us say, creative way. They enjoyed it." Erestor sighed. "I'm suprised you didn't dress up as a Balrog, Glorfindel." The 'Orc' smiled. "I shall remember that for next time. It would make for a good night-training." Elrond gave a slight cough. "Don't take it too far, my friend. And now go and see your guards off." Estel, noticing that he wasn't the center of action anymore, kicked his carriers shoulder. "Glorfindel, have you forgotten about me? I'm still up here!" As answer the child received a slight tap on the back. "Of course not, Estel. I shall have a bruise tomorrow from all your kicking, how could I forget about you?" He turned towards Elrond again. "If you excuse me. I need to cook my prey now! He's becoming unruly. " Elrond waved him off. "Go, we shall see you later. After you've had a bath, that is. Is that paint on your face? Please don't tell me. And while you're carrying Estel around, take him with you. It's time for his bath today, and he is almost as dirty as you are." Glorfindel bowed, carefully holding on to the suddenly squealing child. "Oh, no, I don't want to, the bath is so wet! Can't I bath later?" Glorfindel smiled. "If your Ada says no, then no. Let us go and see the guards off, shall we?" He turned and for a long while all they could hear the soft complaints of Estel, answered by cheerful remarks from the Orc, telling the child all about cooking in bathtubs, with lots of foam on top of the dish.

Still smiling Elrond turned towards Erestor. "Let us go in again, then. I think we had enough excitement for one day." Erestor nodded. "He looked ridiculous. How do these ideas get into this head of his all the time?" Smiling wider Elrond shock his head. "Valar knows. But I think the twins will hate to hear what they missed during their absence. He made quite a good Orc, don't you think? We should really dress him as balrog next time. Estel would make a convincing goblin, too." Tugging Erestors sleeve he turned his steps towards his study again, pretending not to hear the murmured "A troll would be a better fit" coming from his advisor, whom he secretly imagined dressed up as an ent for the rest of the afternoon.

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(c) Fayet - 21/1/2013


	2. Epilogue: Sufficiently Dead

**Epilogue: Sufficiently dead**

_A few decades later  
_

Maybe he should not have left the road, after all. It had been a long and tiring day, finding his way through the forest, the ground covered in mud from the past days rain that had continued as a soft drizzle during most of this day, from early morning on. Still he had deemed it a smart idea to not travel on the open road towards Imladris, although it was paved and easy to navigate. But these were dark times, and a lonesome ranger on foot would be an easy target. Wandering into an Orc infested forest, however, had certainly not been a bright idea.

He knew the pathways and roads like the back of his hand, of course. Roaming this forest in his childhood, alone or with his brothers, days spent hidden underneath the low branches of the trees - although it was dark now he would find his way out. If he'd ever make it to the other side alive, that was, and the three Orcs facing him seemed determined to prevent that. And they weren't the first ones he had met that day. Larger then usual Orcs, dressed in light travel gear, obviously scouting for a larger troup that probably lay hidden somewhere in the woodwork - the signs were not favorable for him. Sighing he gripped his sword tighter and blocked another blow from a crooked blade. For a swift second he thought he heard a strange whistling sound in the trees above him, a movement in the woodwork, but he quickly directed his senses back to the fight at hand. He was far off the well-worn pathways, and even though he was already inside the borders of Imladris chances that any guard or patrol would happen upon him were small. Ducking from a blow directed at his head, now coming from the other side, he hit his direct enemy in the lower leg region and again wished that Orcs weren't so good in making armour. The black metal, covered in spikes was ugly, but working well against his blows. Jumping back onto his feet again he raised his sword to place a well-directed hit against the unprotected neck of the Orc to his left when the soft whistling sound could be heard yet again from the tree directly behind and above him. He almost felt the soft sound rather then heard it, a change of air, and suddenly the biggest Orc in front of him sported a well placed arrow in his throat, dropped his blade and fell to the ground. In a matter of seconds his companions followed his lead, and he was left alone on the small clearing they had been fighting in.

Exhaling a breath he did not remember holding in he lowered his sword and, after a glance over his shoulder revealed nothing about the origin of the arrows, bent over the dead Orc. Long and elegantly carved, the fletching made with feathers in deep burgundy with golden tips, and shot off with such fOrce that the second Orc had almost lost his head at the impact - it was obvious whose arrows these were, even if there had been other creatures in all of Arda that would hide inside a rain drenched tree to shoot arrows at Orcs. But only elfs could be vain enough to care about the feathers on their arrows. Deep burgundy with golden tips! Really. He straightend himself again and examined the trees.

Another rustle in the trees directly above his head, and then the soft sound of someone lightly landing on the ground. He turned around to face a grey hooded figure, soaking wet just like himself, carrying a long bow in one hand. A swift movement of the hand took down the hood, and revealed a mass of golden hair, just as wet as the cloak, and a smiling face. "I see I managed to find you at just the right time. Valar, what made you leave the road? There are no less then three patrols out in this weather to find you, and here you are, trodding through the most Orc-infested woods I've seen in the past month."

Returning the smile Aragorn stepped closer to his former mentor. "You came at the right time, and I thank you for that. But how was I supposed to know that these woods are now littered with Orcs? They used to be safe, safer then the road. But three patrols! I do not remember announcing my arrival." Glorfindel smiled broader, and in elven greeting put a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. "Mithrandir betrayed you. We've been expecting you for the past days, but of course did not think that you would travel on foot. The roads have not been save for a while now, and you know your overprotective father." Aragorn repeated the gesture, and to his suprise felt cold mithril underneath the heavy cloak. "Rangers are wont to travel on foot, as you are well aware of. And I see that you anticipated unfriendly encounters, or are you in the habit of riding out fully armoured these days?" The remark managed to draw a soft laugh from the elf. "As I said - your father is getting overprotective. And we might have had a few most unfortunate warg attacks in the last weeks. But this is talk for a later time, preferably one when I am no longer wearing too much wet armour and you have had the hot bath you seem in dire need of. Let us no longer linger here. There was an Orc scout troup setting up camp just north of us, and I do not know if there are more yet to come." Aragorn dropped his hand and nodded. "How many were there?" Sighing Glorindel placed his bow back on his back. "About twenty-five" He shook is wet hair and threw a disfavouring glance towards the sky. "How many are there now?" A short glance at the half-empty quiver on the elfs back prooved that it couldn't be many any more. "None." Aragorn nodded and secured his sword back into its sheath. That would explain the rustle in the forest he had heard a few hours earlier. "Have you been to Mirkwood lately?" It seemed hardly befitting for an Imladris elf to assassinate Orcs from the trees, a tactic well cultivated by the Mirkwood elves living with the constant thread of plundering hoards and other unfriendly creatures infesting their forest. "No, but it seemed the appropriate approach. After all, twenty-five against one would hardly turn into a battle the 'one' could win easily." Aragorn could not do other but agree. Even an accomplished warrior like Glorfindel had to know his limitations. Putting oneself into useless danger was reckless, and, plainly stupid. It seemed that Glorfindel could read his thoughts. "After all I ventured into this forest to see if I could not find you in it, not to find my way back to the Halls of Mandos. I have no intentions to return there prematurely." For a second Aragorn pondered that answer, but before he could say anything he heard a rustle in the woodwork behind Glorfindel, and before he could open his mouth large black Orc broke through the wet leaves onto the clearing they stood on. He was furious, growling and grunting in orcish language, his blade raised, aimed at Glorfindels head. But the elf reacted quickly, and instead of cutting though flesh the blade only met the resistance of another sword. The Orc grunted once more, visibly annoyed that his supposedly easy target would suddenly provide resistance, but before any of the two opponents could move into a duell a sturdy arrow cut through the air and found its way into the Orcs' head. Without a sound the creature toppled backwards, dead before it hit the ground.

Glancing down at the Orc Glorfindel nodded, and with the air of being unimpressed secured his blade into its sheath again. "Well aimed. You prove the exception from the rule that rangers do not fight with bows and arrows." Aragorn lowered his bow. "They can be useful at times." Looking down at the Orc he saw the remains of another arrow stuck in the darkened armour. "I thought there were none left." Glorfindel followed his glance and shrugged. "That is what I thought." Forbidding himself a smile Aragorn nodded gravely. "Let me pass a very important piece of knowledge onto you that I onced learned, long ago. It was very helpful for me and saved my life plenty of times until today." He took a step closer, carefully composing his face into a mask of earnestness. Glorfindel tilted his head in bewilderment. "Yes?" Aragorn straightened his shoulders. "Never claim yourself to be victorious without making sure that your enemy is indeed sufficiently dead." Glorfindel listend and nodded somberly. "You, my friend, had a very wise mentor indeed." Aragorn nodded and padded Glorfindel on the shoulder. "Wise, yes, but you know how these elves are - they cannot keep a straight face for long. They would rather be merry and sing all the time. And the arrows they use these days!"

Enjoying the visible strength Glorfindel needed to keep himself from laughing he stepped back again and continued. "But then I would rather be merry myself, or at least dry and warm. Let us go, and if the bathhouse is still even half as comfortable as I remember it to be, we shall be merry very soon again." Now finally succumbing ot his laughter Glorfindel nodded and pulled up his hood. Together they left the clearing and made their way through the dark and wet woods, carefully avoiding the overgrown creeks and muddy puddles. But although they remained silent through their trek Glorfindel found it difficult not to laugh at the lesson he had just learned from his former charge.

Even as they reached the horses waiting for them at the edge of the forest the smile did not leave his eyes, and as they reached the gates of the hidden valley Aragorn could feel the same smile slowly rising in his chest. Dismounting at the lower courtyard and leaving their horses with the stable guard he felt the relaxing sensation of being safe again. Glorfindel noticed, and softly touched him on the shoulder. "Welcome home, Estel." In reply he only nodded and looked around, taking in the soft lights from the fireplaces, the elegant curved rooftops and soft green hills, the scents and sounds, and the rushing steps of familiar and friendly faces making haste to greet him. Darkness might prevail on the roads and in the forests, and the rain was still falling heavily on their cloaks, but soon they would be warm and dry, and listen to songs and tales. Indeed, he was home. Although he really needed to talk to Glorfindel about these arrows. Tomorrow.

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(c) Fayet - 3/2/2013

A/N: Thanks for the Reviews and the "Favorite"-Clicks! I appreciate every feedback I get. I think I might have found a new fondness of Glorfindel and Aragorn, and currently plot another multiple-chapter thing.. maybe. Time will tell!


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